


The Next Step

by Vamillepudding



Series: Not A Meet-Cute [4]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst, Demiromantic Charles, Humor, M/M, angst angst angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamillepudding/pseuds/Vamillepudding
Summary: The first time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles mistook it for a joke and started laughing.The second time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles dropped his cup of coffee, causing second-degree burns on his chest and earning him a trip to the emergency room.The third time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles signed them up for couples counselling.***Can be read as a Stand-Alone.





	The Next Step

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [aro-positivity](https://aro-positivity.tumblr.com/) who helped beta this!

The first time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles mistook it for a joke and started laughing.

The second time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles dropped his cup of coffee, causing second-degree burns on his chest and earning him a trip to the emergency room.

The third time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles signed them up for couples counselling.

 

***

  
„So“ the counsellor said. She was pretty in an unassuming sort of way and couldn't have been more than a few years older than they were. She had introduced herself as Dr. Milton, but insisted to call them by their first names. Having come highly recommended, the counsellor was a mutant whose DNA made her immune to other mutants' psychic abilities, in other words: Erik could have easily killed her with the pen she was holding, but Charles couldn't have read her thoughts even if he wanted to, which unnerved him more than a little.

„Why don't we start with you, Erik. Why would you say you are here?“

„Because Charles told me it's either this or sleeping alone.“

Dr. Milton tapped her pen on her notebook three times in quick succession. _Tap, tap, tap._ Her mouth tightened just a bit. Charles and Erik exchanged glances.

„I see. And does Charles give you ultimatums like that often?“

„If I may interject here-“ Charles began. _Tap, tap_.

„You may not. Please let Erik answer my question. Erik?“

„Not often“ Erik said.

„But sometimes?“

Erik said nothing, and the counsellor nodded and wrote something down. Simultaneously, the two men moved their heads slightly in an attempt to read what Dr Milton was writing.

„Very well. Charles, why did you feel you needed to threaten Erik into attending a couples counselling session?“

„I thought we rather needed one.“

„Why is that?“

Charles hesitated, so Erik jumped in instead.

„I suggested we should get married. Charles disagreed.“

Another note, another tapping of the pen. _Tap, tap, tap._ Charles wondered if counsellors were ever entertained by their clients, if this was their version of Reality TV. He was thoroughly disillusioned when it came to the supposed confidentiality, anyway. Too many therapists he had met had told rather detailed stories about their patients.

Instead of focusing back on him like Charles had anticipated, the counsellor kept her attention fixed seemingly solely on Erik.

„What did you feel when he said No?“

„I couldn't say.“

„How so?“

„He never actually said No.“

„How did he express his disagreement instead?“ Silence. „Erik?“ she prompted.

„Well“ Erik said slowly in that certain tone of voice that he also used whenever he thought Charles was being particularly stupid. „He did sign us up for couples therapy.“

Charles laughed, but stopped when Dr Milton eyed him disapprovingly. „Sorry“ he muttered.

„Charles, this was your idea, wasn't it? Yet you don't seem to be taking it seriously. Can you explain why?“

„I'm not sure this is working out“ Charles said honestly. „We're probably not exactly your usual type of couple that comes here.“

„You said 'we'“ Dr Milton pointed out. _Tap, tap_. „Why do you feel the need to speak for Erik?“

Caught off-guard, Charles said: „Er- well, I know him quite well, so-“ he trailed off. Next to him, Erik snapped:

„Look, I thought it's your job to help us fix this, not antagonise us.“

„You are angry on your partner's behalf, yet I brought up a valid concern. Do you feel threatened?“

„I _feel_ like I'm wasting my time“ Erik said and stood up. „Charles?“ Charles got up from his chair as well, smiling apologetically at the counsellor. Before they reached the door Dr Milton said:

„Should you choose to return, I have a task for you. I want you each to make a list of 10 things you like about the other person. That is all.“

Erik didn't wait until the door fell shut to mutter to Charles:

“If you make me return and write that list, you're sleeping alone.” Charles burst out laughing.

 

***  
  
„I'm not sure she understands that we aren't actually fighting“ Charles said thoughtfully some time later, stirring his hot chocolate. It had been Erik's idea to go into a small café after the session, and so far they had not said another word to each other. Erik looked up from the table he had been staring at.

„Aren't we?“

This made Charles pause.

„I don't know“ he said honestly. „Are we?“

„Charles, I don't know how you define 'fighting', but I would say so, yes.“

„Oh.“ They both took a sip from their respective drinks. „Why?“ There was a moment in which Erik simply stared at Charles incredulously. „No“ Charles added after a second, „I'm serious. Why are we fighting? You asked me to marry you. I said no. Why is this such a big deal to you?“

„Because you don't want to marry me“ Erik said, both voice and facial expression suggesting that he thought Charles was a moron. „We've been together for 2 ½ years, we have lived together for the majority of that time, you have met my mother and I, well, I've met your sister and that weird uncle of yours-“

„-second cousin-“

„-and after all that, we still aren't sick of each other. Getting married is the next logical step.“

When Erik put it like that, it did sound logical. It sounded like he had it all planned out, just like his work projects were always planned meticulously beforehand, and all Charles had to do was say Yes to have all that, to be part of something great. He could almost imagine it. The wedding would be a quiet affair because Erik would insist. They'd go on a honeymoon somewhere warm. Back home, their lives would return to normal. A few years down the line, they might get a cat. A few years after that, a house somewhere, or possibly the other way around, a house first, then the cat. Everything would be neatly tied up, like a how-to-live-like-an-adult manual.

„I feel like your client“ he blurted out, which was rather impressive in itself, because Charles Xavier didn't make a habit of 'blurting things out'. In fiction, people often spoke without realising it, revealing great and usually plot-relevant secrets. Charles, being a real person who wasn't a total idiot, had never done that in his life. And yet here he was, for the first time ever saying something to his boyfriend that he would have preferred to keep to himself. Well, it was out now. No going back.

„What?“

„I don't want to be your next step. A 'next logical step' would be ordering a pizza when you're hungry, or making a doctor's appointment when you feel sick. You don't marry someone because it's _logical_.“

„Actually, that is exactly why. Charles, I love you. Is it so horrible that I want to spend the rest of my life with you?“

„Yes, if you think you need a ring on your finger to do it! Marriage, it's just, it's only a piece of paper, Erik. It's all in your head. Its meaning is only what you attach to it. I'm not-“ He paused, took a deep breath and tried to calm down as best he could. Quieter, he continued: „I'm not saying I want to break up, or that I don't love you, alright? I'm saying that I don't want to get married. That's all.“  
„Yeah, well“ Erik said, sounding bitter. „I'm saying that I do.“

Charles didn't ask if Erik wanted to break up, if this was the end of their relationship. He knew Erik didn't, and that it wasn't, or wouldn't be. They would be fine, he possessed enough confidence and self-reflection to be sure of that.

Right?

 

***  
  
Ever since Raven had moved in with her boyfriend, Charles had seen less of both her, who had always been the kind to become fully engrossed in relationships, and Hank, who had always had a crush on Charles' sister and was currently going through a case of severe heartbreak. It didn't matter that neither of the two lived very far away, Charles still couldn't remember the last time he had seen either of them.

Now he rather felt the occasion called for a meeting, and a coin flip decided on Raven, which perhaps was for the best, since Hank had never quite gotten over his aversion for Erik.

The morning after the first counselling session, Charles' sister came over for breakfast just after Erik had left for work. Charles' own classes would only start at noon, and Raven, well, no one knew what exactly it is Raven was doing, or if indeed she had a job at all.

They sat at the kitchen counter in the flat that had once belonged to Erik and that had become Charles' home as well, and Charles spread jam on his toast and for once wasted no time with idle small talk as he said:

“Erik proposed to me.” The only present noise consisted of a knife hitting the counter with a loud bang. He had expected this. He had also expected the excited yelp that followed. Raven was a loud person by default, and an emotional one on top of that. At the same time, it was always surprising how quickly she could make the switch to Cold and Calculating.

Raven stopped screaming, took one look at him and made that switch.

“I'm not congratulating you, I take it?”

“Indeed, you're not” Charles said. “I said No. We moved on. Well, I moved on. Erik is having trouble...adjusting.”

He didn't need his telepathy to detect the mood swing that overcame his sister, and wondered if perhaps he should've called Hank after all. Raven could be unpredictable sometimes – although Charles acknowledged that this thought was terribly arrogant, implying that other human beings were simple and calculable. Then again, sometimes they were.

“You know” Raven said, a strange glimmer in her eyes, “if people looked at the two of us, they would not believe that I'm the nice one.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I'm just saying. You're not...good at relationships, Charles. You never have been.”

“Cheers, Raven.”

“Come on, don't be like that. All I mean is, you've never fully invested yourself. Have you noticed that? There's people who would kill for their partner. You wouldn't even adjust your routine.”

“That is insulting” Charles said, but weakly, because he suspected he knew where his sister was going with this.

“You literally broke up with Tiffany because she was an early riser. You broke up with Todd because he admitted to liking Sarah Connor. You ended things with Clara because she suggested you shouldn't drink so much coffee.”

“...Alright. So I'm a terrible boyfriend, you've made your point. Still, it's not a crime to not want to get married. You can't guilt-trip someone into making this kind of decision.”

“No, but – okay, don't take this the wrong way” Raven said. In Charles' experience, this was what people tended to say before delivering some kind of insult. “You're my brother and I love you, but do you realise that you're always looking for a way out? You've been together with Erik for what, almost three years? It's the longest you've ever been able to stand another person. Usually, your relationships end much faster than that, and, also usually, it's you who's the one doing the ending bit.”

Charles himself had thought among similar lines more than once over the course of his relationship with Erik. Perhaps that was why he immediately got defensive over hearing those words from his sister.

“So you're saying I should have said yes to show that I'm _committed_?”

“No” said Raven, eyes still glimmering in a way that had nothing to do with her power, “I'm saying that I think you should break up with Erik.”

 

***  
  
During puberty, Charles and Raven had clashed heads so many times that not even their stepfather had been able to stop them with threats of violence. Then Charles had gone off to university, Raven following suit two years later, and they had not spoken to each other at all until Kurt Marko died, and they went to his funeral together.

After, they had started talking again regularly, but never often, their personalities too incompatible for their conversations not to end in shouting matches if they spoke too frequently.

Now, there was no shouting. Charles simply showed Raven out of the door, got an unopened bottle of wine from the fridge and poured himself a drink. And then another one. After drink number 3, he remembered work and called in sick, and the rest of the day was a blur until Erik came home.

“Erik?” Charles said, squinting at his boyfriend. Erik didn't ask if he was drunk, the answer being quite obvious. He merely rolled his eyes in what Charles thought was a rather fond way, and moved the wine out of Charles' reach. “Erik” the latter repeated. “Erik, I don't wanna break up.”

Erik paused, then chucked off his coat and put the wine glass in the sink.

“Good” he said.

He didn't seem to be getting the point, so Charles attempted to get up from the sofa, only to immediately sink back into the cushions again. “No, what I mean is, I really don't wanna break up.”

“That's good” Erik said again. “Me neither.”

“But, like, _should_ we?”

He had closed his eyes, but felt his boyfriend sitting down heavily next to him.

“Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober” Erik suggested. Presumably he was right, but this was a matter that Charles thought ought to be solved as soon as possibly – get it over with, if you will.

“I haven't broken up with you yet.”

“No, you haven't. Are you going to?” It was, in a perverse sense of irony, an incidental mock-imitation of a conversation, held more than two years ago.

  
  


“ _Well, aren't you gonna give me your number? I promise not to wash it off this time.”_

“ _How about you just promise to call me before taking that shower?”_  
_“_ _I don't think I can promise_ _that_ _–I_ _could still change my mind, you know.” The pen grazed his skin now. It tickled, but only a little bit.  
__“_ _Are you going to?”_

Was he going to?

“I don't want to” Charles said for the third time. He put his head in Erik's lap. “Raven says I should, though. Ugh, don't be like that, your thoughts are leaking all over me. 's not her fault. She's right, kinda. I suck at this. No, don't think that, you don't. Well, you kind of do, too, but not like me. You had no problem telling me that you loved me. You wanted me to move in with you. 's not that easy, for me.”

“Charles” Erik interrupted. “If you really want to do this now, then sober up, I know you can.”

“That's right” Charles confirmed happily. “Telepathy is just awesome like that. Don't wanna be sober for this talk though.”

“Well, either you sober up now and we will talk about this properly, or we go to bed now and talk about this tomorrow. Your choice.”

Instead of a reply, Charles fell asleep, which was probably enough of a reply in itself.

 

***  
  
He woke up with a hangover, and a vague feeling of heartbreak. The hangover he could do something about, so he fixed it. The heartbreak, well. He'd just have to wait and see, wouldn't he?

The funny thing was, though...he wasn't sure if it _was_ heartbreak. Wasn't that weird? In all those years, in all those relationships, Charles had never stopped and looked back. The past didn't matter. It was a false assumption to think that it did. What's done is done, wasn't that how the saying went? If you couldn't change something, why pander upon it? Besides, Raven had been _right_. It was usually Charles who broke up with other people. There came always a point when he just couldn't stand it any more – all of it, that was. He had never been the type of person to get overly attached to the people he was dating. That sounded horrible, he knew it did, but it's not like he could help it.

One time, he had talked about this with Erik, though that must have been, what, over two years ago now? They had been drunk, as people who bring up sensitive topics often are. Sometimes Charles thought that the inventor of alcohol had simply been looking for a way to find out their enemy's weaknesses, and had probably succeeded marvellously.

 

 _***_  
  
“I'm just sayin'” says Charles, waving his hands around and pointing at nothing in particular. “I'm just sayin' that, that I'm not like _that.”_

“ _Like what?” Erik asks. He's had as much to drink as Charles, but is considerably less drunk. For one, he's still able to form a sentence without slurring. This is because Charles is, in all honesty, a bit of a lightweight._

“ _Like, like you.”_

_Erik looks Charles up and down and replies, his voice betraying his amusement: “Right now, I find myself very glad of that.” But, uncharacteristically so, Charles doesn't laugh, nor does he insult his boyfriend right back. He goes back to making frantic movements with his hands._

“ _You don' get it. What I mean_ is _– you're, like, in love with people, right? Right?” The last word he repeats a bit louder, and it takes a few seconds for Erik to realise that a reply is expected of him._

“ _Right.”_

“ _Right” Charles says, satisfied. “I'm not. Or maybe I am, dunno. You're just s'posed to, to know these things, right? Right?”_

“ _...Right.”_

“ _Right. But I don't. It's like this. I_ know _I'm a good kisser. I_ know _I'm smart, and, and handsome, and this sounds arrogant but it's_ fact _. But I don't know if I'm in love, and if I don', then doesn' that mean I'm not?”_

 _Just like two years later, in a very different conversation, Erik suggests that Charles sober up. Just like two years later, in a very different conversation, Charles waves off that suggestion. He is almost positive that Erik still doesn't understand. He has to make Erik understand._  
“Are you in love with me?” he demands. Erik suddenly looks very uncomfortable.  
“Charles.”

“ _Well, are you?”_

“ _..Yes” Erik says after a small pause. He adds wryly: “Am I going to regret saying that?” And because Charles is an honest drunk, he answers:  
“Prob'ly.” The room is swaying slightly now. Good. There is no way he would be able to have this conversation otherwise. “I really like you, you know.” _

“ _Yeah” says Erik, and sounds like he actually means it. “I know.”_

“ _Love, though, that's different. You might wanna, wanna break up with me. 's not fair. To you.”_

“ _I don't care.”_

“ _But-”_

“ _I don't care” Erik repeats, and that is that._

 

***  
  
Because life has a wicked sense of humour, merely a couple of weeks had passed after that night when Charles woke up one morning and realised he was, for all intents and purposes, in love. He hadn't been pleased with that, initially. Labelling yourself as anything, anything at all, always equalled putting yourself in a category. Being in love immediately catapulted Charles out of that category, leaving him to find a new one.

He had waited a bit, suspicious the feeling might disappear, but it hadn't. Eventually, seeing the word _demi-romantic_ online had cleared things up a bit, and a few weeks after that, he told Erik what has been portrayed by the media for years as the master key to life, otherwise known as 'I love you'. Since he barely remembered that talk about love himself, he couldn't be sure that Erik did, and his boyfriend hadn't brought it up ever again. So Charles said 'I love you', meaning it, and Erik said it back, and Charles joked about cheesy moments and Erik rolled his eyes, and everything went back to normal – until one day, two years later, when Erik went down on one knee.

 

What really bugged Charles though was that he suspected Raven might have a point. It wasn't about his insecurities, if they could be called that. He would have been happy to spend the rest of his life by Erik's side. A ring, though, a ring meant commitment, and commitment had always been an issue for Charles. With a ring, there would be no easy way out, if things went wrong. He'd be stuck, and so would Erik.

He realised at least one error on his part now, though. They didn't need couples counselling. They didn't need a stranger to judge their relationship. What they needed was for Charles to make a decision, and for Erik to live with that.

Oh, well, thought Charles, and decided that it was time to call the one person who had broken up with him, instead of the other way around. He pulled out his phone, and dialled Moira's number.

“Why did you break up with me?” he said as a way of greeting. Moira's reply came instantly, which was more than a bit insulting.

“ _I thought you were not invested enough, you never tidy up, your sister actually hissed at me when she found out that I'm not a mutant, you never answer your phone when someone wants something, you-”_

“Alright, thank you very much” Charles interrupted quickly. “Maybe just focus on that first thing. The part where I was uninterested in you.”

“ _Not uninterested, uninvested. You freaked out when I wanted to plan two weeks ahead. You absolutely refused to be introduced to my brother when he was visiting. You never had time. ...Are you still there?”_

“Yes” Charles said slowly. “I'm here. Just one more thing. I realise this may sound terribly cliché, but what if I hadn't been? We dated for 3 months. What if I had changed?”

“ _What do you mean?”_

“Where are you?”

“ _Home. Why?”_ asked Moira suspiciously. Charles didn't answer, just found her mind within seconds and nudged her gently, asking to be let in. She complied, and instead of trying to put it in words, Charles showed her.

Breakfast in bed. A weekend in Paris. Visiting parents. Spending Christmas together. Moving into a shared flat. And, finally, a ring.

“Well” came Moira's voice over the telephone. “I suppose we'd be married now. I don't know what you want me to say, Charles. Please don't tell me you're dumping Erik because you discovered you're madly in love with me.”

“I have to go.” Charles' voice sounded weird to his own ears. “Thanks again. I'll see you around.” He hung up, not giving Moira a chance to reply.

A strange feeling had taken possession of him, like he was moving through thick fog. He turned off his phone. He took a shower and brushed his teeth, and opened the fridge only to find that he had no appetite. It was Saturday, but Erik had mentioned a work-related meeting anyway. Didn't matter. Charles wasn't waiting for his boyfriend to come home to him any more.

He got on the subway, and just like with Moira earlier, he located Erik's mind, made sure that his boyfriend wasn't talking or concentrating on something important right now, and projected his thoughts.  
  


_Erik?_

 

A pause. Then:

 

_Charles? Shit._

 

Admittedly, this was not what Charles had expected.

 

_What is it? Please tell me I didn't just catch you cheating on me with your boss._

 

_You just caught me after I called Hank and sent him to our flat._

 

_You – what? Why?_

 

 _Moira called, said you sounded like you were about to do something stupid, and you didn't answer your phone. You_ always _answer._

 

Charles blinked, and blinked again.

 

_What are you implying? I'm not suicidal. Wait, did you think I was going to kill myself because we had a fight last night? What am I, some heroine in a penny dreadful? God, you're full of yourself._

 

_Stupid meaning taking off to Mexico on a whim. Tell me you're not on a plane right now._

 

_Why does everyone think I'm the running away type? I'm not. Just – can you come outside? I'll be in that park near your work in, oh, three minutes. Wait, the subway just stopped for no reason. Make that five._

 

_I'm at work._

 

_And bring coffee._

 

 _***_  
  
Erik was waiting for him at the entrance to the park when Charles showed up ten minutes later. There was a brief silence as both men glanced at the four cups of coffee now between them. Charles frowned.  
“I didn't think you'd actually bring coffee.”

“People like you are the reason for climate change” Erik dead-panned. Charles' frown deepened.

“Don't be dramatic. We'll just give two of these to a homeless person. Come on.” Said and done, and a short while later, Erik now handed his boyfriend one of the two remaining cups. Charles took a sip.

“Cold”, he announced. Erik shook his head sadly.

“I don't know why I bother. Give that back if you're not going to drink it.” Just to spite him, Charles gulped down half of the liquid in one go, and promptly choked. Erik waited patiently until Charles had finished coughing and spitting, like the gentleman Charles knew his boyfriend secretly was.

Then Erik said: “I've never been more attracted to you”, and Charles remembered that his boyfriend was also, not-so-secretly, a huge dick.

“You're a huge dick” he told Erik. “No, don't reply to that. This is not innuendo-time. This is serious-time. I'm serious. Seriously.”

“Okay” Erik said, and waited. That was the great thing about Erik, Charles reflected. He would argue and insult you for hours on end, all the while pretending like he wanted to be anywhere but here, but when it came down to it, he was perfectly happy to wait for Charles to find his words. It was a quality Charles, ever impatient, found himself lacking.

“I-” he started, stopped, started over. Still, Erik didn't interrupt. “I didn't say No because I wasn't invested in this relationship. And I'm not looking for a way out. That's not what I'm saying. But – alright. Remember when we had just gotten together, and Raven had left that bottle of vodka in my flat, and we watched Titanic and made it a drinking game?”

“Vaguely” said Erik, smiling slightly. “The memory is a bit fuzzy around the edges.”

“You told me you loved me, that night” Charles said, and the smile instantly disappeared.

“That's not quite how-”

“You told me you loved me, and I told you that I liked you. I offered to break up, and you said I was the light of you life and you'd never ever let me go.”

“You and I seem to be remembering very different versions of that night.”

“No, but see, some time later I felt like I was truly in love with you. But it can disappear, is my point. Any day now, I could wake up and not feel it any more. True love, that's bullshit. So if you marry me, you marry a guy who can't agree to 'forever' with good conscience.”

And because he was a telepath, and you are never quite able to suppress that, he opened his mind then and let Erik's emotions wash over him. What he expected was pain. What he got was anger, and frustration.

“You're unbelievable” Erik snapped. “This? It doesn't make you special. There's _always_ a risk, and not just for you. Maybe I'll wake up one day and realise that _I'm_ not in love with _you_ any more. Have you ever thought about that? But that's what marriage is. It's always two people jumping off a cliff hoping that they'll survive the fall.”

“More like the hard ground” Charles muttered, unable to help himself. Erik stared at him, now startled.

“What?”

“Well, of course you'd survive the fall, you just wouldn't survive the actual impact.”

“I – that's not my point.”

“Oh. Right.”

“It was a good analogy and you ruined it.”

“If it had been a good analogy, I wouldn't have been able to ruin it, Erik. Think about that.”

“I don't know. You seem able to ruin a lot of good things recently” Erik said sharply, and Charles froze.

“Right” he said slowly. “That – right.”

They looked at each other then, properly for the first time that day. It would be so very easy, Charles thought to himself. He desperately wanted to turn this into a joke, or defend himself, or point out some of Erik's own unsavoury qualities, especially because in his opinion, Erik was being deeply unfair. But, and of this he felt certain, a wrong word spoken here, right now, could cause an already fragile bond to break.

In reality, it couldn't have been more than one or two seconds, and yet to Charles it seemed much longer. They were standing at the verge of the cliff, frozen in time.

“Marry me” Erik said, again, for the fourth time. Taking the metaphorical step over the edge.

“No” Charles said, for the first time saying it out loud. Watching his boyfriend fall alone. Time unfroze, and Charles added, remembering the previous night, remembering the café after the counselling session: “I'm not saying I want to break up.”

“Then-”

Erik didn't seem to be getting the point. “No, you don't understand. I  _really_ don't want to break up. But this is me. Breaking up.” Perhaps it would always have come down to this. 

For the first time ever in their relationship, Erik appeared to be lost for words. After what seemed like an eternity, he said: “Charles-”

“I'm truly sorry” Charles said, and attempted to leave the same message directly in Erik's mind. Also for the first time ever, Erik flinched back at the psychic contact, and a second later, a shield – Emma's teachings? - was in place. Charles could have broken through it in a second, but the message was clear.

He nodded to himself. “Alright. So – alright.” A part of him felt like he should say some meaningful last words, something proper, something – just, something. Anything at all. But his mind drew at a blank, all speech was lost at this crucial moment, and perhaps this, this simple lack of action, was an appropriate way to describe Charles' entire life up until this point, his whole relationship with Erik included.

The moment passed. Charles closed his eyes, just for a second, and sobered up. It didn't matter. His decision was made. He handed Erik his empty cup. Erik accepted it mechanically. Charles didn't look back as he walked away.

 

***  
  
The first time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles mistook it for a joke and started laughing.

 

The second time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles dropped his cup of coffee, causing second-degree burns on his chest and earning him a trip to the emergency room.

 

The third time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles signed them up for couples counselling.

 

The fourth time Erik asked Charles to marry him, Charles understood perfectly, and made a choice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I rewrote this a hundred times, because this ending? Was not the original plan. Please tell me what you thought !


End file.
